


Five People Who Never Crewed Aboard Serenity… And the Crew that Never Really Left Her

by hiddencait



Category: Angel: the Series, Firefly, Sanctuary (TV), Star Trek, Supernatural, Warehouse 13
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, all the crossovers ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddencait/pseuds/hiddencait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keep flying long enough and all sorts of folk end up taking passage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five People Who Never Crewed Aboard Serenity… And the Crew that Never Really Left Her

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheryden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheryden/gifts).



> OK so this was a complete freaking blast to do. I had a hard time settling on any single prompt that my recipient gave me, and eventually decided just to use half a dozen of them. Really, the alternate title for this was “all the crossovers I could possibly push into a 5&1 fic.” I’m a little nervous as I haven’t actually written anything for half of these fandoms before, so here’s hoping it just works as well as I thought!
> 
> Also just an FYI, Book, Wash, and Mr. Universe managed to survive the Big Damn Movie mostly because I said so. And that worked for my recipient so I can get away with it lol.
> 
> Finally, a massive thank you to my beta askita who managed an 11th hour beta miracle for me to get this turned in on time!
> 
> Spoilers: Firefly through the Big Damn Movie, Angel up to Season 5, Warehouse 13 through ‘Buried.’ All other fandoms – just general mention but no spoilers.  
> Warnings: Very brief nudity, blatant fandom jumping
> 
> Prompts:  
> -People from different shows are part of the same family.  
> -When Lindsey was shot, he didn’t die. He was shunted into a different future.  
> -Waking up somewhere unexpected.  
> -Mal & Dean.  
> -“Captain, I don’t think this is our universe.”  
> -One minute they were touching an artifact, and the next, they were on a spaceship.

**Five People Who Never Crewed Aboard Serenity…**  
  
 _Our Great-Aunt Helen_  
  
The crew had been awaiting their latest passenger with what Inara’d called “bated breath” though damned if Mal could figure out what bait and breathing had to do with each other. Flowery language aside, the newcomer could be quite the help their little albatross was waiting for. Assuming the good doc didn’t turn out to be a spy… or a bounty hunter… or some kind of crazy thief. It could happen.  
  
Still when the dark haired woman stepped on board, Mal was anything but prepared for the reactions of his two Core-born crewmates.  
  
“Aunt Helen?” Simon’s voice had that pinched sound like he wasn’t sure whether to pull the pistol he barely knew how to fire or go running to the woman who apparently wasn’t as much of a stranger as Mal had thought. “You’re the medical contact Mr. Universe set up for us?”  
  
“I am, indeed. And had I any hint River’s gifts had been awoken is such a violent matter, it wouldn’t have required a middle man to put me in touch with the pair of you.” The woman’s voice screamed ‘Core,’ and Mal had to work not to sneer at the familiar and oft-maligned formal tone.  
  
“So you know our River and Simon, do you?” Mal broke in, wanting to take charge of the situation and maybe even find out just what the well-to-do thought she could actually do for the psychic.  
  
“Mmm, all their lives. I am their aunt.”  
  
“Great aunt… great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great aunt Helen Magnus.” The lilting voice sounded from above them, and Mal wasn’t surprised to find the youngest member of his crew all but hanging from the catwalk above them, her dark eyes fixed on her aunt. “Greatest of greats and yet no older than she ever was.”  
  
Helen smiled ruefully and strode past Mal and up the stairs without so much as a by-your-leave. She reached her supposed niece and sank down to sit beside her, as comfortable as if she hung around slightly less than pristine freighters every day.  
  
“It’s more often than you’d think,” River muttered slightly, and Mal blinked at her, still not quite used to the young woman answering his unspoken questions. “Can’t take us out in public, gotta keep us secret.”  
  
“And safe,” Helen finished, clearly following the reader’s ramblings far easier than Mal. She gently tucked a few strands of River’s dark hair behind her ear, and Mal was struck by just how similar the two women looked in that moment. Helen smiled softly and wrapped an arm around River. “Sorry it took me so long to reach you, darling. But I’m here now. Let’s see what we can do to set things right in that busy mind of yours, hmm?”  
  
When Serenity left dirtside, Wash set a course for a drift none of them had ever heard of, let alone been to. Mal had a feeling the location wouldn’t be the only thing they’d never seen before.  
  
  
 _Lost Lamb_  
  
The gun went off, and Lindsey felt the bullets plow into his chest with a feeling not unlike being hit by a sledgehammer. A wry part of him wondered if that feeling was Angel’s final revenge against him; well his final revenge aside from Lindsey’s death itself at the hands of the demon that once had been almost a friend.  
  
Or might still be a friend, he realized slowly as Lorne stepped forward and knelt down beside him.  
  
“Sorry big guy, but you don’t belong here anymore.” The demon pulled something from his pocket and then slammed it forward against one of the wounds.  
  
Silently cursing the part of him that had let his guard down, Lindsey arched back in pain as the bullet wounds seemed to burn, and his eyesight flickered from bright white to black.  
  
Nothing in the black but stars… So many stars…  
  
Still reeling, though more from vertigo than pain, Lindsey tried to push himself up from his place against the wall, wondering when gravity had turned itself inside out.  
  
He was still against the wall, wasn’t he? Lindsey couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from the stars before him, and instead tried to feel the wall behind him with his hand. Instead of brick and mortar, he felt wood beneath his fingertips, and he realized he was somehow lying flat instead of propped up in an alley.  
  
What in all the hells had Lorne done to him?  
  
“Well, this is different.”  
  
The wry voice had come from somewhere to his right, Lindsey thought, and he closed his eyes and struggled to sit up. He finally managed it and looked around to find he had been lying down on a table in what looked to be a kitchen. And to his right and clustered in a doorway were a crowd of people he didn’t know. One of the tallest of the group tilted his head.  
  
“Any one of you have an inkling why there’s a naked man on our table?”  
  
“Not a one, Captain.”  
  
Naked? Lindsey looked down at himself and blinked. Well damn. He was naked.  
  
He only wished that was the most embarrassing and/or strangest thing that had happened to him. Lindsey shook his head and looked back up to survey the group, hoping for some sign that one of them might be willing to be an ally.  
  
If not? Well, that wouldn’t be anything new. He’d figure it out as he went.  
  
  
 _Bound to be Trouble_  
  
Zoë’d known the boy’d be trouble right from the start. Mr. Lars Ulrich had swaggered right up and into the hold with a sly smile for Kaylee that had Simon bristling like a bantam rooster. Not that it was an unusual reaction for the doc; most of their contacts tended to find Kaylee to be a bright patch of sunlight in the Black and they weren’t shy about letting her know it, either. They just weren’t usually quite as open about it as this fellow.  
  
Course that surely wasn’t what had Zoë’s instincts twitching as they left dirtside and headed toward the Singer Salvage Station. She wasn’t particularly sure what had set her off until the damned Fed had come out of hiding and shouted that “Dean Winchester was here-by bound by law” in the damned worst moment of déjà vu Zoë’d had ever yet experienced.  
  
As if they needed another fugitive bringing the Alliance down on their heads.  
  
Before any of the rest of the crew could figure out whether to honestly deny the knowledge of Mr. Winchester’s identity or to draw on the Fed, one of their other troublesome fugitives decided this issue for them.  
  
River Tam swung down from the catwalk and oh-so-casually disarmed the Alliance man, before turning to face the man who’d brought the Fed down all on their heads, keeping her newly claimed weapon trained on the shell-shocked officer behind her.  
  
She tilted her head in the pose that had become so very familiar to her fellow crewmates, and Zoë wondered what she was reading off the young man.  
  
“Sammy,” she whispered, and instantly the near lazy young man was replaced by a sight Zoë was far too familiar with. He whipped out a pistol even Zoë hadn’t known he had and leveled it at the psychic, his eyes hard and a soldier clear in every inch of his pose.  
  
“What the hell do you know about Sammy?” His voice when he spoke was just as hard as the rest of him, and Zoë wondered how she’d missed the edges in the man.  
  
River just smiled sadly.  
  
“Your brother is very smart. ‘Gifted’ is the term. He was offered a position at the finest school in the Verse. Papa didn’t like it – wanted him to stick with the family business… But Sammy wanted to go. He wanted to learn.”  
  
There was a horrified silence, and Zoë felt a sick rage roiling in the pit of her stomach as she struggled to keep her face passive.  
  
Simon stepped forward quietly and moved to lay his hand on his sister’s shoulder, looking up at the taller man with something like pity in his eyes.  
  
“You’ll need help to get him out.” In that moment, there was no doubt Simon had been born for better than living the lift of a fugitive doc on a salvage ship out on the Rim. It said all the more that he’d chosen the life for his sister. Winchester might not think so to look at him, but Simon was every bit the warrior in his quiet way that the taller man was. It was this moment that Zoë would have to remember the next time the Core-boy did something more foolish than normal.  
  
“Really – what kind of help?” Winchester didn’t look convinced, but his pistol lowered slightly.  
  
Simon smiled down at his sister before answering.  
  
“Money and luck is what it took the last time.” He lifted his head up to meet the Captain’s gaze and tilted his head slightly in question. Mal nodded sharply and strode over to join the siblings, only pausing to knock out the Fed as the idiot tried to make a lunge for their little psychic and his gun. Mal stood to River’s other side and held out a hand to the other fugitive to shake warily.  
  
“Got more than money or luck this go-around.” Mal looked around to meet each of his crew member’s eyes and nodded again, this time with his wide devil-may-care smile. “We may not look like much, but you’ll have our help, too.”  
  
Dean took his own leisurely glance around the ship at all of those watching, and then holstered his gun with a grin.  
  
“Look like enough to me. Much obliged.”  
  
River smiled widely.  
  
“We’re going for a ride.”  
  
  
 _Peaceful Warrior Women_  
  
“Captain, I do not believe this is our universe,” said a faintly green and pointy-eared member of the small party that has suddenly shimmered into existence in _Serenity’s_ bridge without so much as a Wave to announce that they’d be arriving… shimmering?  
  
“Umm, hi?” Kaylee didn’t ‘spect any of the others were going to manage to say anything anytime soon, so she spoke up, attracting the attention of the quartet of uniformed folk. “This is _Serenity_ , and you’re in the only ‘Verse that people live in so far’s I know.”  
  
“So far as you know? That’s just great…” The tall dark haired man was turning red and looked about as annoyed as the Captain after a job went south. The blonde beside him in the pretty yellow shirt looked positively gleeful though, and he stepped forward to speak before either of the other men in the group could speak again.  
  
“Captain James T. Kirk.” He held out a hand to Kaylee with a warm smile, but Mal stepped forward to take it before Kaylee could respond.  
  
“Captain Malcolm Reynolds, apparently at your service, though not exactly sure as to the how or why.”  
  
The pair of captains moved into the familiar posturing of two relatively powerful men trying to impress their respective crews. Kaylee sighed – this was going to take longer than she’d like to be away from the engine room. There was no telling just what kind of effect the shimmering-thing might have had on her girl.  
  
Before Kaylee could slide away though, she noticed movement behind the greenish fellow, and to her surprise a dark skinned young woman eased around him. He looked about to raise a stink, but she laid a hand on his arm and gave a sweet smile, and he subsided. The young woman eyed her Captain and Kaylee’s and rolled her eyes fondly before making her way past them to come stand between Kaylee and Zoë.  
  
“Men, they never change do they?” she said with a smile that invited Kaylee and Zoë in on the joke, and Kaylee couldn’t resist a giggle.  
  
“Seems they don’t, no,” she replied, and Zoë nodded in agreement.  
  
“Always makin’ a fuss. Even my mister, though he doesn’t get quite as tetchy as the Captain,” she said softly with a wink to Wash still sitting in the pilot’s seat and taking in the strangers with wide eyes. Apparently people blinking into existence was enough to strike him speechless. Kaylee almost wanted a capture of the moment just to prove it had happened. Zoë spoke again, distracting Kaylee from her musing. “Any idea how you folks managed to get here? I’d ask the men folk, but they do seem busy with each other.”  
  
“As always,” the stranger agreed. “And it was a glitch in our transporter – it was supposed to send us to the planet our ship was orbiting. But clearly that’s not where we ended up. I’m Uhura, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you both-”  
  
“Though we’d both have preferred better circumstances? I’m Zoë Washburn, and this is our Kaylee Frye.” Zoë finished.  
  
“So do you have any idea how to get yourselves back?” Kaylee asked, wondering just was a transporter might even be.  
  
“Not a one. Spock might, but it’ll likely take him and the Captain a while before they even think to try.” She shook her head. “Brilliant men, all three of them with Dr. McCoy… but not always practical.”  
  
“Of course not. They’re men.” Zoë shrugged. “It’s just their nature.”  
  
“You want something to drink, maybe?” Kaylee asked, finally remembering her manners. “We got a kitchen and all. And I don’t suppose you’ll be going anywhere any time soon.”  
  
Uhura nodded.  
  
“Mmm. I don’t suppose you have tea?”  
  
“Right this way.” Zoë and Kaylee led their newest accidental passenger out of the bridge and down the hall to the galley.  
  
The men folk would wonder where they’d gone eventually, but for now at least, Kaylee figured the ladies deserved a little peace and quiet.  
  
  
 _Agents of an Older Alliance_  
  
“Artie?” Myka called out, nervously eyeing the obviously armed strangers eyeing her from various spots around the large open room. “Claudia? Pete!”  
  
There was no answer from her boss or her friends, and Myka felt her heart sink. This was definitely not the Warehouse, and that meant this was not her best day ever. She held onto the paper parasol that had caused this whole mess, hoping against hope that whatever power the damn thing had might suddenly reverse and send her back to where she was actually suppose to be.  
  
“You are really in the wrong place, aren’t you Agent?” Almost as one, all the strangers’ heads whipped around to stare at the flamboyantly dressed redheaded man who was standing at the top of a set of metal stairs leading up to a catwalk. “Mr. Thompson said I’d be the one to find you, but I’d begun to doubt over the years. This will make a heck of a story to tell my little ones. If I had any little ones yet, and if it wasn’t highly _highly_ classified.”  
  
“Wash, you mind telling us what this is all about?” a taller man in the corner wearing a set of suspenders of all things asked. Well, less asked, and more ordered, Myka amended to herself.  
  
“Would you believe me if I told you I have a famous ancestress. Well, Famous in some circles, I guess I’d have to say. Not circles that you’ll have heard of.” He waved it away, and came trotting down the steps. “The circles aren’t important. What is important is that my ancestress is one who this lovely lady worked with once upon a very long time ago.”  
  
“You’re right – I don’t really believe it,” the second man said, and a pair of young women peeking around the stairs giggled at the dramatically affronted expression the redhead put on.  
  
“Well I never! That right there is the reason I won’t tell you.” He walked past a stern looking woman and squeezed her arm as he passed on the way to Myka. “Former Agent Hoban Washburne at your service. Here to help, Agent Bering.”  
  
“Wash?” the dark haired woman he’d paused beside looked almost stricken at the title, and Myka could tell it unsettled the man.  
  
“Former, lambytoes. _Former_ Agent, and not for the Alliance, either. It’s complicated, but it’s all OK. I promise.” He held the woman’s gaze for a movement before she finally nodded slowly.  
  
“What do you need?” she asked quietly, shaking her head firmly as the suspender-wearing man opened his mouth as if to argue. Wash beamed at her, and Myka felt herself smiling as well at the infectious joy in it.  
  
“Thank you, dearest. Now, Kaylee!” he called spinning around and then stopping when one of the younger woman leaned out at his call. “Fetch your parasol ,please. And I’m afraid I’ll have to buy you a new one when all this is over, but I promise it’ll be twice as shiny.”  
  
The young woman, Kaylee as Myka reminded herself, looked confused but scampered off to do as he bid. She returned with a paper umbrella that looked to be a twin to the one that had dragged Myka to this where-ever-it-was. Wash took it from Kaylee and then presented it to Myka with a flourish.  
  
“Paired artifacts! The one sent you to the ‘tother and both should send you back to point of origin. Or so I understand it. I think.” He shrugged ruefully, and Myka matched it, well aware of the sometimes unpredictable nature of the artifacts. “Just open them both, and hopefully off you’ll go.”  
  
Myka shrugged again. She didn’t have much choice but to try it.  
  
“In case this works and I don’t get to say it – thank you.”  
  
His grin said he understood, and he stepped back as she opened first her parasol and then the second. She had just a breath before her world started spinning. As her vision spun, she heard him call after her.  
  
“Tell your little Caretaker Claudia hello for me!”  
  
  
 **And the Crew that Never Really Left Her.**  
  
Mal rubbed his eyes and looked over the autopilot settings one last time to convince himself he’d laid them in properly, then stretched high in the chair, trying to work out the kinks in his back. He hadn’t had to take the dog watch in the bridge in quite a while what with Wash’s somewhat possessive attachment to the ship and the little Albatross learning the ropes as Wash’s co-pilot. Still, Mal didn’t mind it every now and then – it was peaceful-like, spending time with his ship with all his crew sleeping sound.  
  
They weren’t sleeping anymore, of course. He’d heard them moving about for some time now; the clang and clatter of berth doors and boots of Mal’s second and his mercenary ringing about and making it fair impossible for anyone else to stay abed. He rather thought Zoë did it a-purpose, but Jayne likely just didn’t care if he woke anyone else.  
  
Wash had followed closed behind his wife, and he’d drifted up to hover in the doorway of the bridge for a few minutes as if to convince himself that his Captain hadn’t crashed the boat overnight. He wandered back out again before Mal could bring up the tragic lack of respect, but Mal figured it was implied anyway.  
  
Another clatter started up in the kitchen once the Shepard was up, and Mal allowed himself to smile at the thought. Breakfast promised to be right tasty after the load of fruit and fresh bread they’d managed to scrounge at their last drop dirtside. It’d be a nice change as long as it last; though, it wasn’t like the Shepard couldn’t manage to make even protein taste like a feast.  
  
Laughter, both male and female, signaled the lovebirds on his crew were up and about, Kaylee’s bright voice recognizable even across the distance from the bridge to the engine room. The pair’d probably bunked in the hammock there again. It wasn’t exactly the proper place for them, but Mal’d learned to just let it go. Kaylee got both of her loves in the same place that way, and Mal preferred Kaylee keep her shine about her.  
  
The doc’s sister and their resident psychic was likely up and wandering about as well. Likely had been most of the night, Mal guessed. She was doing better, but he’d noticed she still didn’t sleep well, finding it a challenge to keep the other crew members’ nightmares out of her own head when she wasn’t awake. Mal reminded himself not to worry about it too much. River’d get her rest eventually. She’d curl up somewhere later, on the sofa maybe, or more likely out on the catwalk in the hold.  
  
That just left his Ambassador still sleeping he realized, and Mal grinned at the thought of crawling into bed with her. He stretched again and stood, checking the course one last time. Then he turned and stopped short at the sight of the lovely lady he’d just been thinking of leaning in the doorway.  
  
“And when did you get here?” he asked with a smile, staying right where he was and watching Inara approach in that graceful way of hers.  
  
“A while. It’s peaceful first thing in the morning.” Another louder crash and a roar from Jayne followed by a shriek of laughter from River had Inara laughing a little. “Well it _was_ peaceful before the natives awoke.”  
  
“And now it’s a madhouse,” Mal agreed. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned down to kiss her good morning.  
  
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”  
  
No, he wouldn’t.


End file.
